It happens in a flash. Maybe your partner snaps at you for leaving a dish in the sink, or your boss sends a vague "see me" email, and your stomach just drops. Your brain goes to that one specific, dark place: I thought it was me. You assume you’re the problem. You think you’re broken, or difficult, or just fundamentally "too much."
Brené Brown, the researcher who basically put shame on the map for the general public, talks about this constantly. In her earlier work, specifically the book actually titled I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t), she breaks down how shame thrives in secrecy. When we think we’re the only ones failing, the feeling grows. But here is the kicker—most of the time, that heavy feeling of "it’s me" is actually a response to external shame or perfectionism that we’ve internalized since we were kids.
It’s heavy. It’s exhausting. And honestly, it’s usually a lie.
The Science of Internalizing Blame
Why do we do this? Why is our first instinct to take the hit?
Psychologically, it’s often a survival mechanism. If you’re a child and your environment is chaotic or your caregivers are emotionally unavailable, it’s actually "safer" to believe you are the problem. Why? Because if you are the problem, you can theoretically fix yourself to get the love you need. If the adults are the problem, you’re just a helpless kid in a dangerous world. That’s a terrifying prospect. So, we grow up into adults who reflexively say, "I thought it was me," whenever something goes wrong in a relationship or a workplace.
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We carry that "bad kid" narrative into our thirties, forties, and fifties.
When Shame Masks Reality
There is a massive difference between guilt and shame. Guilt is: "I did something bad." Shame is: "I am bad."
When you live in the "I thought it was me" mindset, you aren't just taking responsibility for your actions; you’re taking responsibility for other people’s emotions. This is a hallmark of codependency and certain trauma responses. You become a heat-sink for everyone else’s bad mood. If the vibe in the room shifts, you start scanning your mental files to see what you said wrong.
Dr. Harriet Lerner, author of The Dance of Anger, suggests that we often take on this blame to avoid the terrifying reality of other people's limitations. If I admit that my partner is just chronically irritable and it has nothing to do with my behavior, I have to face a hard choice about the relationship. If I keep thinking "it's me," I can keep trying to "be better" to fix the situation.
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It’s a control strategy disguised as low self-esteem.
The Role of Perfectionism
Perfectionism is the ultimate shield. We think if we walk perfectly, talk perfectly, and look perfect, we can avoid the pain of judgment.
But perfectionism is just shame in a fancy suit.
When you finally realize that the standards you’ve been trying to meet are literally impossible, the "I thought it was me" realization starts to shift. It turns from a self-indictment into a moment of clarity. You start to see the systems—family systems, corporate systems, social systems—that rely on you feeling inadequate so you'll keep over-performing.
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How to Tell if It’s Actually You (or Not)
Look, sometimes it is us. We all mess up. We all have toxic traits we need to work on. But there’s a way to tell the difference between healthy accountability and soul-crushing shame.
- Check the "Always/Never" Language: If your internal monologue says "I always ruin things" or "I’m never enough," that’s shame talking. It’s not data.
- The Physical Sensation: Shame usually feels like a physical weight, a heat in the chest, or a desire to disappear. Healthy guilt feels like a nudge to go apologize and fix a specific mistake.
- The Source of the Critique: Is this coming from someone who actually has your best interests at heart, or someone who uses blame to deflect from their own issues?
Breaking the Cycle of "I Thought It Was Me"
Moving past this isn't about becoming arrogant or refusing to admit mistakes. It’s about right-sizing your responsibility.
The first step is naming the feeling. When that "it’s me" wave hits, stop. Say it out loud: "I am feeling shame right now." This activates the prefrontal cortex and pulls you out of the emotional lizard-brain response.
Next, talk to someone. Not just anyone—someone who has earned the right to hear your story. As Brené Brown notes, shame cannot survive being spoken. It needs silence and judgment. When you tell a trusted friend, "I felt like such a failure today because of X," and they say, "Me too, I’ve been there," the power of that shame evaporates.
Actionable Steps for Radical Self-Clarity
- Audit your "shoulds." Write down the things you feel you "should" be. Usually, these aren't your values; they are someone else's expectations you've adopted.
- Practice "Unblaming." Next time a conflict happens, try to view it as a systemic issue rather than a personal failing. "The communication between us broke down" is very different from "I am bad at communicating."
- Find the "Middle Path." You are neither a monster nor a saint. You’re a person. People are messy.
- Set "Emotional Boundaries." Remind yourself: "I am responsible for my actions, but I am not responsible for their reaction." If you are kind and clear, and they are still angry, that’s their side of the street.
Stop carrying bricks that don't belong to you. The moment you realize that the "me" you've been blaming is actually a version of yourself that was just trying to survive, everything changes. You don't have to fix your core; you just have to stop believing the lies you were told about it.
The weight you're carrying? It’s okay to put it down. You've been holding it for a long time. You're allowed to be done now.